


Serendipity

by Elsian



Category: Dragon Age II
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-07-19
Updated: 2015-07-19
Packaged: 2018-04-10 04:29:33
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,347
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4377227
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Elsian/pseuds/Elsian
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Anders was nervous.</p>
<p>It’s not as though he hasn’t been to the mansion before, but only ever with Hawke, and a few of the others. He tended to loiter outside, a bit down the road. Being in Hightown makes him antsy enough as it is, without annoying the easily irritated elf.</p>
<p>Of course, it’s different now. They’re different now.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Serendipity

Anders was nervous.

It’s not as though he hasn’t been to the mansion before, but only ever with Hawke, and a few of the others. He tended to loiter outside, a bit down the road. Being in Hightown makes him antsy enough as it is, without annoying the easily irritated elf.

Of course, it’s different now. They’re different now.

Fenris has stayed at the clinic, more than once, even before they began whatever it is that they’re doing, but it felt different. It was Anders home true enough, but it was open to everyone, anyone who needed sanctuary and healing, and even on the occasions Fenris had stayed, chances were that there was at least one or two patients out on the cots.  
He wasn’t sure he’d ever expected an invitation to Fenris’ home, and his hand wavered as he lifted it to the door, still unsure but also not wanting to develop a reputation for hanging around haunted Hightown mansions at night. Does one even knock on a haunted mansion door? He felt like he should be climbing through a gap in a boarded up window, like something from a cheap horror from the Lowtown market.

The decision was taken from his hands when the door opened, revealing Fenris sans armour, staring flatly at Anders, who opened the hands on his fist in a haphazard wave.

“Are you going to stand out there for the rest of the night?” the elf asked.

“Um, no?” Anders hurried inside, looking around and taking in the dim surrounding, lit only by one candle, as Fenris closed the door. Usually it was considered polite to remove one’s shoes in another’s home, but taking in the floor, Anders decided it was probably more hygenic not to.

Fenris brushed past him, turning and jerking his head at the mage as he lead him through the hallways and up the stairs. Anders followed closely, trying not to look at the bodies that still littered the mansion, preserved and musty, hollow sockets seeming to look at him.

He shuddered. How could Fenris live like this? It might not be much at the clinic, but at least the Darktown sewers were free of corpses.

Most of the time anyway.

There was a soft glow from a door at the end of the hall, which looked to be where Fenris was taking him, and he pushed the door open, leading the way inside and holding it open for Anders.

It was a bedroom, apparently the master bedroom, disproportionately large for a sleeping area with a large four-poster bed, along with a couch, a doorway leading to an overhanging balcony and a fireplace, lit and roaring with two bottles and two glasses resting nearby.

It was also clean. Very clean. Too clean, the air of a place that had only very recently been tidied and Anders frowned at Fenris, mouth slightly open whilst the elf closed the door, looking to Anders slightly over his shoulder.

“Did you clean?” Anders asked. He knelt to undo his boots, this room more than safe to do so in.

“I am unaccustomed to guests, but I am told this would be fitting.” Fenris said curtly, stepping over to start undoing the clasps on Anders coat when he straightened from the floor. He decided to give him a break and not ask exactly who told him. Not yet at least.

He slid his coat from his shoulders, placing it on a nearby chair and nearly jumping out of his skin when he turned back to Fenris a few inches from his face, taking hold of the mages biceps and leaning in to press their lips together gently, tongue tracing the seam of Anders mouth, asking for entrance that is gladly given. Anders finds his eyes have closed, opening them slowly when Fenris finally pulls away, breath mingling as he speaks to the the Mage.

“I know your…spirit does not approve of partaking, but I have some elderflower that you might have in its stead.” Fenris steps over to the fire, lifting the bottle of wine. “I presume you will not object if I do.”

“Would it stop you if I did?” Anders chuckles, moving to sit in front of the fire, lifting one knee to rest his hands and head on as Fenris pours himself a drink, and then Anders, passing the glass to Anders and sitting next to him, knees brushing the mages.

“No, it would not.”

Anders snorts lightly, shaking his head as he lifts the glass to his lips. The drink is warm from being beside the fire, but it only takes the briefest of magic to have it cool in his throat, the taste fresh and light. He looks down at the liquid once he is done drinking. He had not expected this.  
Then again, he had not expected a lot of things.

He had not expected Fenris, in the midst of one of their most heated fights yet, alone in the clinic after hours to lunge forward and kiss him. For the smallest of moments, Anders thought he had gone too far, and was about to lose his heart when the elf’s lips pressed to his own, wrapping his arms around the Mages waist and hoisting him up to sit on his desk before he knew what hit him.

Anders was no stranger to the concept of hate-sex, and Fenris was certainly not hard on the eyes, and he found himself reciprocating with ease.

He’d not expected Fenris to stay, dragging him forcibly to his own bed and pressing him down into the sheets. He’d been too exhausted, thoroughly fucked in his post orgasmic bliss to argue and hit the flat pillow easily. He’d woke to an aching body, and surprisingly heavy elf limbs tangled with his own.

He’d not expected Fenris to come back after he left that morning, nor had he expected him to keep coming back, joining Anders in his bed more often than not. They still argued, still fought, Fenris still drove him to absolute distraction with his opinions on Mages and magic, and there was no doubt the elf felt the same about him, but there was something more to their arguments, something heated that Anders was certain their friends were starting to pick up on (something Isabela had been insisting on existing for sometime).

It was different and strange and new and he wasn’t sure he wanted it to stop.

Anders started as his glass was taken from his hand, placed down as he was moved, guided to lie back between Fenris’ legs, his head laying back on the elfs shoulder as Fenris wrapped his arms around Anders waist.

“What is on your mind, mage?” He rumbled, chest vibrating behind Anders comfortingly. “You are distracted.”

Anders frowned, then smiled, placing his hand slowly over Fenris’ own on his stomach.

“Everytime I think I have you figured out, you go and do something that completely throws it on its head.” He replied softly.

Fenris huffed behind him, remaining silent, but pressing his lips to Anders temple.

“Thank you, for inviting me here.” Anders said, voice low after a while into the comfortable quiet of the room, not entirely sure if Fenris heard him over the crackling of the fire.  
Fenris was rolling them before Anders had really realised what had happened, Fenris weight over him solid, but not unpleasant, one hand holding himself up as the other held Anders head, fingers tangling in his hair.

“You are welcome here.” Fenris replied “Whenever you desire.”

Anders stared for a moment, then huffed in laughter.

“There you go, doing it again.”

Fenris leaned down, brushing their lips together. “Quiet, Mage” he murmured against Anders lips, before claiming his mouth, pressing him down into the plush rug on the floor and Anders hummed into his mouth in response, wrapping his arms around the elfs shoulders as their hips ground together, drinks forgotten by the fire.

He wasn’t sure what this was, or whether it could last, but for now, at least, he was happy.


End file.
